Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir by Ryker Helios

41. Son of a Billionaire.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger sit at a far table in the hospital cafeteria as we arrive at the hospital, looking tired. But as soon as they see us, they shoot us watery smiles and straighten in greeting.

“Hey, did you guys get any sort of rest?” I ask them, my voice gentle.

“We certainly tried, but well, Coraline has still not woken up, so sleep was the last thing on our minds,” Mrs. Granger smiles ruefully, “but the doctors said that she’s going to be fine, although she will need therapy. Both for her leg and her psyche, if she so desires.”

“I mean, if it were me, I’d definitely need therapy,” Mr. Granger mutters, “getting shot like that, on the side of the road god, my baby girl.”

His wife entangles her arm with his and leans into him in comfort. I feel bad for this couple who had to see their kid in the hospital twice this month, both of them being while in my company. A part of me wonders if this is my fault somehow Am I the reason why Coraline keeps getting into these

circumstances? After all, I was the one who suggested the pizza joint where she went into anaphylactic shock. Had I known of her allergy, I’d have never chosen the place.

Perhaps it was not my fault. But the shooting? Well, the doubt and guilt are there and needling my mind.

After conversing a bit with Coraline’s parents, I travel off to the other end of the hospital where the reception tables are and try to find Nurse Clara who was present yesterday.

But she is nowhere near the reception area, so I ask a passing nurse where she is.

“Oh, she’s at the storage area. Her station was changed after the incident yesterday. Boss nearly fired her but took pity on her afterward.” The nurse tells me, and I nod.

“Oh, that’s great. Can I enter the storage area to meet her?”

sure. You a friend?” the nurse asks,

really, no.” I am the farthest from

one of the storage rooms, folding some standard white blankets from a trolley and depositing them in a cupboard. She

her, she catches me hovering near the doorway. Her

she utters,

morning, Nurse Clara,” I greet her, trying to ignore

she steps away from the laundry and turns

She is alright now. Out of

is wonderful,” she starts to shift from foot

nervousness

the bush, “after the whole fiasco last night. I asked the director not

Mr. Greyson, I have to apologize for what I did last night and how i treated you I am so, very sorry for all the

good shift, and I was just so tired that my brain got addled with annoyance..anyways, I have

and her expression, and manage a smile,

you for talking with the director too,” she goes on, “no one else would’ve done so, in fact, I was so certain that you would want me again, and you had every right

to admit that I was mad yesterday.” I reply cautiously, “but I believe that everyone deceives

Clara

you want anything, like, anything that I can do for you, you can give me a call, or drop by

a brow, “huh?”